


Midnight Son

by San



Category: Duran Duran
Genre: Crack, Family, Gen, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-04
Updated: 2011-04-04
Packaged: 2017-10-17 14:25:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/177809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/San/pseuds/San
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nick has a midnight visitor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Midnight Son

Nick sat in semi-darkness on the edge of his bed, leaning his back against the solid footboard and staring through his window at the storm raging outside. The rain pounded on the glass like thrown pebbles, pushed hard enough by the wind that he'd risen once to see if it was still rain, or if it was hailing. The wildness of the weather matched his mood but not the lassitude creeping through his body; a careful combination of Valium mixed with a single shot of Stolichnaya keeping him from pacing the room, stalking through the apartment and destroying everything of Julie's he could find.

Sebastien, his muzzle gone grey from age, was sleeping in a puddle on Julie's pillow; something that had been completely out of the realm of possibility during their marriage. A blinding flash of lightning followed so closely by thunder that Nick though it must have struck the building brought him to sudden life - he stood and arched his back, hissing, then abruptly shot off the bed and under the dresser where Nick could see his eyes glowing greenly as they caught the light from the hallway.

"Goofy cat," he said, softly, getting off the bed and crouching down to try and draw him out, "you'd think you'd never heard thunder before. Come on, kitty," he coaxed, as Sebastien continued to growl and mumble to himself.

At a soft sound in the hallway he rocked back on his heels, then stood up much more quickly than the drugs in his system should have allowed. He turned so he had a clearer view of his bedroom and the doors to bath and hallway; Sebastien fell silent as Nick's narrowed green eyes searched the room for the source of the sound.

"You're no longer welcome here," he said firmly into the emptiness. "I thought I'd made that quite clear. Get out."

Only the falling rain answered him; the rain and a caress on his cheek so light and cold that it might have come from the surrounding shadows.

"Out," he repeated before crouching down and hooking his hand around Sebastien's back, pulling the cat out into his arms and getting clawed for his trouble as Sebastien used him as a launching pad back onto the bed. Nick shook his head, inspecting the scratches even as he watched Sebastien knead Julie's pillow back into submission before curling up again as though nothing had happened.

The storm outside was lessening, the wind and rain making only occasional forays against the window as Nick walked across his bedroom toward the bath, intending to wash off the scratches. He paused again next to the head of the bed, tilting his head and then abruptly reaching down and snapping on the light on the bedside table.

The woman across the bed from him recoiled, bringing one hand up as if to ward off the dim light of the reading lamp. Nick looked coldly at her, recognizing in her the same fine bone structure he found in his own face and hands, and the same green eyes.

"I said you're not welcome," he said in a voice so chill it dropped the temperature in the room several degrees. She smiled at him gently.

"Nick," she said, stretching a hand out across the bed toward him, "if you'd just hear me out -"

"No. I've heard what you have to say. I've asked around until I'm sure I know which parts are true and which come from your delusional mind," he said, sharply, "and I don't care to continue the conversation any more."

"You can't deny who you are forever, you know," she said, conversationally, sitting down on the edge of the bed. The cloud of white silk serving as a dress floated down to rest against her skin in a manner that Nick supposed had unmanned any number of other men. It left him even colder than before.

"I'm not denying anything," he said, folding his arms. "I know who I am; your problem is that I'm not who you expect me to be."

She tilted her head and looked at him appealingly, and he shook his head with a sigh, sitting down on the bed and reaching up to stroke Sebastien's back, ignoring the warning tail lashing as Sebastien watched her closely.

"I'm nearly thirty," Nick finally said, impatiently. "Don't you think that, if I were going to suddenly develop an unhealthy yearning for other people's blood, I would have done so by now?"

"You've never even *tried* to live the way I've asked you."

"I've never fucked another man, either," he said, "you know, some things you just don't have to try to figure out you don't like them. This isn't like eating my peas."

She pouted, and Nick kept from balling his hand into a fist by sheer force of will.

"Things would be different if I'd raised you," she said, and Nick rolled his eyes as Sebastien yowled, his tail half-curling around Nick's wrist.

"You didn't. I'm grateful to the people who did," he said. "I don't know what would be different, I don't know what would be the same, but don't you think they would have noticed something if I'd been more like you? I'm doing just fine in this world. I've no interest in living forever, so just forget _that_ particular offer," he warned, holding up one finger as she started to speak.

"Don't make me ward the house against you, Mom. Don't bother me again. Don't bother Julie or Tati, and leave Roger and Sylvia alone. You made your choices. You deal with the consequences."

She studied his face for a long moment, lips tightened in anger. Nick's flat expression never changed, and she finally seemed to collapse into herself.

"I only want what's best for you," she said, meekly, and Nick's face softened ever so slightly.

"Then let me live my life. I have a daughter; don't you think I understand? I don't want to outlive her, either. But I am who - and what - I am, and so are you, and nothing's going to change either of us," he said, stopping to rub his thumb along the corner of his mouth. "I don't want what you're offering me."

She stood, abruptly, and stalked to the window, throwing it open to make a Grand Exit by leaping out into the storm. Nick sighed and closed it behind her, wrinkling his nose at the rain that had been driven inside, then turned and looked at Sebastien, who was stretched out across both sets of pillows, his ears and whiskers pricked forward.

"Don't look at me like that, Dad," Nick said, calmly, " _you're_ the one who slept with her. I suppose if I'd made that mistake I might choose to spend the rest of my life as a cat, too, rather than facing my ex."

The black cat yawned, then rolled over to put his back to Nick and began casually cleaning one paw.


End file.
